Conservatives, much like liberals and independents — as well as anarchists, Marxists, flat-Earthers and every other creedal crowd — all think they’re right. It’s axiomatic: Why hold one position if you think another viewpoint is better? The trouble for conservatives, much like the problem faced by those other groups, is that their worldview isn’t overwhelmingly popular.
Oh, conservatism is more popular than a lot of things we call popular these days; more people call themselves conservatives than Red Sox fans, for instance. But the ideal conservative program of a federal government strictly limited to constitutional responsibilities and nothing else would fare miserably at the polls. Almost as badly as an ideal socialist program.
This point is difficult for political activists of either stripe to concede. After all, both sides are certain they have staked out the intellectually superior ground. So they fixate on tactics, packaging and spinning. A lot has been written, including by myself, about how liberals consider political strategy more important than ideas. But it’s worth noting that conservatives fall prey to such lines of thinking too, even as we take pride in our squabbles about liberty versus virtue.
This is one reason Republicans are so fixated on finding the next Ronald Reagan — someone who can articulate conservatism and carry 44 states doing it. Virtually every Republican debate so far has had moments that sound like the climax of “Spartacus,” with each candidate rising to proclaim, “I am the Gipper!”
The problem is that conservatism, even Reagan’s brand, wasn’t as popular as we often remember it. Government spending continued to increase under Reagan, albeit a bit more slowly. Today, the U.S. population is 30 percent larger but government spending is 84 percent greater (adjusting for inflation) than it was when Reagan delivered his 1981 inaugural address. That was the speech in which he declared: “In this present crisis, government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem,” and vowed to “curb the size and influence of the federal establishment.”
In 1964, political psychologists Lloyd A. Free and Hadley Cantril famously asserted that Americans were ideologically conservative but operationally liberal. Americans loved Barry Goldwater’s rhetoric about yeoman individualism, but not if it meant taking away their Social Security checks or farm subsidies. “As long as Goldwater could talk ideology alone, he was high, wide and handsome,” Free and Cantril wrote. “But the moment he discussed issues and programs, he was finished.”